


The Morning After

by rhoen



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [7]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff, M/M, Sort of? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 17:59:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12347721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/rhoen
Summary: Waking up in Izumo's bed is nothing new, but the ring around his finger is, and Kotetsu isn't quite able to believe what happened the day before.





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinypearl32](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinypearl32/gifts).



> Done as part of a tumblr prompt for @myboysallhavegoodhair. There might be more, depending on... things (stress, work, other writing stuff, etc.)
> 
> CW for mentions of drinking, a headache-y hangover, and a rather clumsy attempt at writing something awkward but cute.
> 
>  **Note:** I tag pairings and content as much as possible (while trying to avoid spoilers) so you know what you're getting into. No one is obliged to read my work, especially if the content isn't something you like or might be triggering. Please keep yourself safe and happy and close this tab if you think this fic isn't for you!

The first thing Kotetsu thinks upon waking is just how much his head hurts. Pain lances through his skull, making opening his eyes to the harsh afternoon light next to impossible. He decides against doing it just yet.

The second thing he thinks – or more like realises – is that he’s had sex. Very good sex, if the pleasant ache is anything to go by. Izumo is warm and pliable against him, just as he always is on occasions like this, his limbs wrapped around Kotetsu’s and hair tickling his jaw. It’s familiar and reassuring, and Kotetsu doesn’t question it.

The third thing that runs through his mind is a resounding ‘ _ oh shit! _ ’ as the rest of the previous day comes back to him. He freezes, breath stilling within his chest and his head throbbing with malice as he recollects the events that lead to him and Izumo ending up tangled in bed together.

_ Oh shit _ .

His mind flits over it all: his own tipsy confession, followed by Izumo’s response; Tsunade’s discovery of them and their healthy supply of sake; her drunken excitement and the short but sincere ceremony; Genma and Raidou buying the next three or four rounds; the solid gold band around his finger…

“Izumo?” he can’t help asking, opening his eyes just a crack.

Izumo stirs, shifting closer and tightening the arm flung over Kotetsu’s naked chest. He seems oblivious to the slight panic in Kotetsu’s voice, or the racing of his heart. “Hm?”

“Did… Did we get married yesterday?”

“Mhm,” Izumo confirms, sounding unphased by the revelation as he buries his face against Kotetsu’s chest and seems to fall back asleep.

A dizziness that has nothing to do with his hangover grips Kotetsu, and he struggles to draw breath. He remembers the conversation they had yesterday afternoon after their first two drinks, and his clumsy admission that he didn’t think he’d ever marry, because no one else was Izumo. He would never in his wildest dreams have thought that it could lead to… this… His heart still racing, he can’t help speaking again.

“What do we do?” he asks, wondering how Izumo can be so calm. They’re  _ married _ , for fuck sake.

“Update the paperwork?”

“Izumo,” he pleads, far too warm under the covers and with Izumo tucked up against him.

At last seeming to realise Kotetsu’s distress, Izumo pulls away just enough prop himself up and look down at Kotetsu, an unhappy line of worry creasing his brow.

“Are you not okay with this?”

“No, I am!” Kotetsu protests. “I am! I’m okay with it, I just…” His words trail off, heart beating a cacophonous tattoo and head still splitting. He looks at Izumo, astonished as always by the other man’s beauty and composure. The concern disappears from Izumo’s expression as he simply waits for Kotetsu to gather himself. It’s hard to wrap his head around the facts, and Kotetsu gives a whisper of disbelief: “We’re  _ married _ .”

“We are,” Izumo confirms, a smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re my husband.”

“I am.”

“I’m  _ your _ husband.”

“You are.”

“We…”

“We?” Izumo prompts.

Kotetsu can only give a low groan in answer, relaxing against the pillow. The disbelief starts to abate, perhaps helped by the headache that’s becoming harder and harder to ignore.

“My head hurts,” he announces.

Izumo gives a soft whisper of laughter, shifting enough to kiss Kotetsu’s temple. “That’ll be the whisky.”

Kotetsu groans again in displeasure.

“I’ll go get the asperin.”

“No, it’s okay,” Kotetsu protests, feeling guilty and trying to get up The arm across his chest restrains him with ease.

“Stay,” Izumo orders, sitting up and making sure Kotetsu doesn’t move. “I’ll get it, we can sleep some more, and then later…” He pauses and leans in to kiss Kotetsu – their first sober kiss as a married couple, Kotetsu thinks. Izumo’s lips are warm and a little chapped against his own dry ones.

“Later we can celebrate again, just us, no whisky”

Kotetsu gives a hum of approval, which turns into a grunt of pain when he tries to chase after Izumo and finds his skull almost splitting. “Okay,” he sighs in resignation, lying back against the pillow.

With a warm, affectionate smile, Izumo slips from the bed. Kotetsu carefully turns to watch him go, his heart drumming out for attention.  _ My husband _ , he thinks, breathless with excitement and wondering if he’ll ever get used to it. He can’t help wondering what Izumo thinks too, although he’s pretty sure from the affectionate attention and gentle touches Izumo gives him when he comes back, painkillers and tall glass of water in hand, that Izumo is okay with this. More than okay, maybe. He wraps around Kotetsu with a smile, sighing and wriggling closer, and falls asleep with an ‘ _ I love you _ ’ on his lips.

Kotetsu isn’t entirely sure Izumo hears it when he says those three little words in return, but it doesn’t matter. Thumbing the ring around his finger, he knows he will have all the time in the world to say it again, as many times and in as many ways as he can.


End file.
